


Stopping By the Woods on a Snowy Evening

by reserve



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Classic Kylux, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Hand Jobs, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, Light Omorashi, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reserve/pseuds/reserve
Summary: "To trudge: the slow, weary, depressing yet determined walk of a man who has nothing left in life except the impulse to simply soldier on."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to QEP for the help, cheerleading, and beta. And to [cracktheglasses](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cormallen/pseuds/cracktheglasses) for egging me on; this one's for you. And finally, [to this nsfw friday anon](http://reserve.tumblr.com/post/157154321105/nsfw-headcanon-i-am-so-sorry-4-this-ren-and-hux), who was my inspiration.

Kylo Ren was no longer walking.

“There isn’t time for dilly-dallying,” Hux snapped. He stopped without looking and crossed his arms, resisting the urge to tap his foot impatiently. The deep snow was already seeping moisture into his boots and they had at least another long kilometer to trudge before they reached base camp.

“Not everything can wait, General,” said Ren. His teeth sounded like they were chattering through his vocoder, but his voice was still a disconcerting, low rumble.

Hux frowned, and rolling his eyes he turned back to ask what, exactly, was so pressing that they were no longer moving at a reasonable clip for sub-zero temperatures.

“Oh,” he said, just barely. His mouth was certainly open.

“Oh,” echoed Ren, who had posted up against a thick tree trunk, one gloved hand spread out over the bark and the other. The other, still gloved, wrapped around his very—Hux blinked against the frigid air, his eyes were watering— _very_ large cock.

Ren was pissing.

Hux recovered himself. “That’s barbaric.”

Instead of offering a refute, Ren only sighed in apparent pleasure.

It was, Hux noted, a very long piss, and he was familiar with the sensation of going after having _not gone_ for quite some time. There had been training exercises, when he was a youth, after which he’d relieved himself with something akin to orgiastic release. He didn’t like thinking about Ren on the brink of any kind of release, orgiastic or otherwise. He swallowed.

“You’ll freeze it off,” he tried. His voice sounded strained to his own ears. He was still watching Ren’s cock drain itself into the white snow, staining the topcoat rapidly yellow.

“What do you care?”

Hux sniffed. He didn’t care. “Are you quite finished yet?”

“No.”

It just kept going. A maddening, unending hiss that seemed to go on, and on, and on…

“Do you.” Hux took a deep breath. “Do you have _three kriffing bladders_?”

“The Force—“

“So help me, Lord Ren, if you tell me the Force allows you to hold it longer I am going to throttle you and not even a raging wampa could stop me.”

“The Force allows me to hold it longer,” Ren said. He was so smug. He was shaking off his monstrous cock, finally finished, and Hux couldn’t stop staring for the life of him. He wouldn’t be throttling anyone or anything any time soon. He was too busy watching the last drop of fluid fall from the thick head of Kylo Ren’s thick, well-formed cock to do anything at all. He was very obviously ill. The cold had gone to his brain. His feet had become far too chilled with all the standing and looking, and his ears hurt. His nose was running. And his bladder—Tarkin’s tooth did he have to piss. Bloody _hells._

“I hate you,” Hux said.

“You’ve said before. Let’s go.” Kylo Ren tucked himself away seemingly oblivious to Hux’s predicament and his staring.

“Right.”

They started walking again, weaving an unsteady path through the trees. It was nearly dusk, and they had to reach base camp before nightfall, otherwise they’d have to bed down in the wilderness which Hux would not stand for. Not when there was a perfectly good cot waiting for him at the little research lab they were trekking toward. He had been hoping beyond hope that their scientists would have analyzed the planet’s core by now, and that good news would greet them upon arrival, news that he could relay to their Supreme Leader with great honor. News that they could begin construction of the weapon.

Now he just hoped he didn’t piss himself before they got there. And— _and_ —he was hard. In his trousers. His poor prick pressed stiffly into his flies and hidden under the layers of his down parka. As though watching Ren empty himself had inspired…some kind of _reaction_ from him.

Each step he took was torture. Each step rubbed him exactly the right way. And the pressure in his groin was growing unbearable. He had been raised on a steady diet of deprivation. He would be able to walk to the kriffing camp without lewdly revealing himself to urinate before his co-commander, _or_ , stars forbid, soiling himself with semen like a bawdy teenager. He was trained to deal with this sort of thing.

His training, however, had omitted anything at all like Kylo Ren. And they trudged on in freezing silence until Ren said, “you may as well just go.”

“Go where?”

“ _Go_ ,” said Ren, insinuating.

Hux imagined he could see one of Ren’s dark eyebrows lift up behind his mask. “I most certainly will not,” he said, as his bladder ached in protest and his prick twitched with interest. He was mortified.

“Don't tell me you've never pissed in front of someone before. An academy brat like you. I've seen the holos.”

“And what holos, pray tell, would those be?” Hux had an idea of exactly which holos Ren meant and they were essentially banned. Although popular.

“You know the ones.”

So he did, and wondered in spite of himself if Ren had a preferred volume of the trilogy, whether he liked Imperial Boy Sluts, I, II, or III best.

“Three,” said Ren. “I like the ginger.”

“Kriff off.” Hux stopped again, even though his feet were becoming more numb by the minute. His toes felt frozen stiff, but stopping was a reprieve from his other concerns.

“I do,” Ren said. His mask tilted. “I like when he begs to be fucked by that older boy, and then comes all over himself just thinking about it. What do you think, General? Could you do that?”

“I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about.”

Ren stepped close and Hux backed up. Backed up until a tree kept him from going any further. Ren closed in.

“You know.” He leaned in very close, mask nearly touching Hux’s brow. “ _Exactly_ what I'm talking about.” He inched his leg forward, slowly.

Hux made a pained face. He felt one of his eyebrows draw down, and his mouth pulled into an exaggerated and miserable frown. Ren’s thigh was nearly pressed against his groin, and he was trapped. Completely and utterly trapped, and experience had taught him that trying to push Ren away would only make it worse. He inhaled slowly through his nose. His heart was beating at an inhuman clip, pounding through each of his pulse points.

“Go on, General. You’ll be so much more comfortable. I won’t even watch.”

“You won’t?”

“On my honor.”

“If it will get us moving again then fine. _Fine_.”

Ren stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest, looking very much like he intended to watch. “Go on,” he said again.

“Turn around.”

Ren put up his hands in a conciliatory way and turned. Hux heard him unlatch his helmet with a sibilant hiss.

Tearing his parka aside, he scrabbled at the clasps on his trousers. His fingers were numb, too, and he wasn’t about to take his gloves off. He didn’t relish revealing his prick to the cold air either, but at this point he’d essentially promised to do so and his bladder was twinging sharply. He got himself in hand, appreciated the feel of the soft leather on his hard prick for a moment, and then braced himself with one forearm against the tree trunk. Hux took a deep breath and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

He couldn't make himself let go. He stood there, holding himself with a trembling hand, feeling painfully full as the pressure in his abdomen built with each passing second. His mounting discomfort had a disconcerting, pleasurable edge, and Hux felt shame rise in his throat, at his sudden inability to do as he'd been told, regardless of Kylo Ren’s unworthiness to command him of anything, especially something so onerous and embarrassing.

“Look at you,” Ren said softly, almost singsong.

“I said don’t look.”

“You forget, General, I don’t need to _see_ you to know. Your shame is a beacon, you’re,” he sighed, wistful, “ _desperate_ for release, trapped on the precipice.”

“Shut up.”

“I could _make_ you go.” It sounded sinister and threatening even without his vocoder. “I could force you.”

“You wouldn't dare,” Hux said, knowing Ren probably would.

The pressure in his abdomen increased, and he realized, alarmed, that it was Ren’s doing; that an invisible palm was bearing down on him. It was warm. He could feel his cheeks flushing. His legs felt weak, his knees ready to buckle.

“Let go,” Ren said. He pressed harder and Hux swore under his breath. He gripped himself more sternly, but it did nothing to help, and finally he gave in. First a desperate little trickle of fluid and then he was pissing a broad, hot stream.

It was ecstasy.

He closed his eyes, and lost in the sensation of pure, perfect release, he groaned, helpless to stop himself.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“Hypocrite. You’re dying to tell me how good it feels to let go. I bet you hold it all the time. Just to feel this good.”

“You—” Hux paused. He was still pissing robustly onto the snow, but he couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut. “You’re disgusting. No one does that.”

“You do,” said Ren. He was, Hux realized, even closer then he had thought. Just behind him, in fact, practically curled over his back. Hux could feel his breath on his neck. Ren put one of his hands on the tree beside Hux’s elbow, and laid the other gently—now _tentatively_ , the coward—on Hux’s lower abdomen, skin hotter through his glove than the Force-hand had been. His palm was huge, and skimming over his bared skin lightly. Ren was breathing loudly and Hux’s own breath hitched. It was agony: ecstatic, indecent agony.

Ren nosed at his nape. “You can see it again when you’re done, if you’d like.”

“See what?”

“This,” Ren said. He ground his crotch against Hux’s coat covered ass, and Hux could feel him. Through the layers of fabric, through the thick down, he could feel the hard length of Ren’s massive, unseemly cock.

His own prick jerked in his hand, his body reacting of its own accord. He was caught in Ren’s snare, trapped between his groin and his hand. He leaned his head against his forearm. He had been in similar positions before, with Ren, like it was all a game to him. He seemed to adore catching Hux off his guard, tormenting him with some new trial, and then avoiding him coolly as though nothing untoward had passed between them. He deplored being subject to Ren’s whims.

“Would you like that? A little reward for taking care of yourself.”

“This is depravity.” Hux wheezed a disbelieving little laugh. His piss had slowed to droplets, and his legs felt even more coltishly unsteady. He shook himself off, and squeezed at the base of his prick admonishingly. He was still hard. Ren most likely knew.

“I could help.” Ren’s hand slid lower. And lower still until he had wrapped his hand around Hux’s own. “You always like my help. Why don’t you ask for it?”

Hux moaned, high-pitched and from the back of throat like a caught animal.

“No one can hear you, General. Don’t worry.”

“Please.”

“What was that?”

“Please— _help_ me.” He grit his teeth. Ren began to move their hands together, first slowly, and then with greater urgency, pushing into him from behind like he could fuck Hux through their clothing, like he wanted to. Hux shivered.

“I’m warming you up,” Ren whispered. He sucked at Hux’s earlobe, then released his hand to push it away and take over on his own.

Hux shifted, he braced himself with both palms against the tree trunk, and it inadvertently fit his behind more soundly against Ren’s groin. He felt frustrated, freezing cold but overheated. He wanted Ren to have him half-nude in the snowy woods, he wanted Ren to rut between his thighs and force him bodily against the harsh bark until his flesh had been rubbed raw by its unyielding texture. Hux felt his testicles tighten up; another familiar pressure building and building, as Ren stroked him with his unforgiving fist.

“You’re the depraved one,” Ren said. “You should thank me for treating you like it.”

“ _Kriff_ ,” Hux said, and came. His body shuddered against Ren, and he could only watch his poor, abused prick spurt into the snow, and onto Ren’s leather-covered hand.

Ren was breathing heavily into his ear. He was a humid,suffocating weight draped over Hux's back, and as soon as Hux could move he jabbed a sharp elbow into Ren’s abdomen and tucked himself hastily away. He tugged his coat into place while Ren stumbled back awkwardly.

“What about me?” he asked. He jutted out his lower lip petulantly and wiped Hux's release off on his cloak like the heathen he was. 

“You can wait.”

“ _Hux_.”

Hux raised his chin haughtily. He would not be on the back foot any longer. Not now that he could think clearly again. He favored Kylo Ren with a smirk.

“We’ve a schedule to keep.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr](http://reserve.tumblr.com).


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